This story was written purely for entertainment and is not for profit, and is not meant to trespass in any way on the holders of the rights to Starsky and Hutch.

This is my first new story after roughly fifteen years without writing any. And it looks like time hasn't gone by, because once more I had the help of an awesome Beta reader, Rebelcat. Today, same as she did all those years ago she's done a wonderful work to make better this story. Many thanks, my friend, I am so glad to be back in touch with you and that you accepted to work in this story!

Chapter 1

"Shit!" Starsky swore, and with a swing of his arm he swept the half-built model ship off his coffee table. The brunet was bored out of his mind; bored and worried sick over Hutch, who was out patrolling the streets without Starsky to cover his back.

Over at the Precinct, Hutch was feeling very similar emotions.

Starsky was still on sick leave after Gunther's hitmen had almost killed him. Hutch had initially refused to be partnered with anyone else, but he had been forced to relent. The precinct was short staffed and Dobey was being pressured by the commissioner. Despite feeling truly sorry for both members of his favourite team, he had no choice but to assign Hutch a new, temporary partner. The blond one was partnered with Collins, a soft spoken, calm man in his mid 40`s. Collins was a very capable officer, experienced in everything from negotiating hostage situations to subduing the most violent felons, and he was also a fine marksman. In short, Collins was a professional cop who, to Hutch's chagrin, always acted by the book.

However, despite that notable shortcoming, they got along fairly well. Hutch sorely missed Starsky's banter, his silly jokes and trivia, and the care they had for each other, born out of years of being best friends. Sure, Collins had his back, and he would do all in his power to protect him if danger arose, same as Hutch would do; but without Starsky by his side, the blond one couldn't help but feel lost.

OOOOOOOOOO

It was a balmy springtime afternoon in Bay City, and the weather was too nice to stay indoors. As it was also one of those rare, almost pain-free days, Starsky grabbed his camera and called a cab. Ten minutes later, he was at the beach, ready to breathe fresh air and take a little stroll, just as his physiotherapist had been advising him to do. Starsky had been discharged from the hospital about three months earlier, after a very long stay, and he was on the mend. He was slowly improving, day by day, but his future still looked bleak. He didn't yet know when or if he'd be able to go back to the job he loved. He missed patrolling the streets with Hutch, catching the bad guys and serving justice. Besides, his body still ached and he was still on prescription painkillers. His stamina was gone and he looked frail and thinner than before. The ordeal he'd been through less than a year ago was clearly noticeable in his pallor, his thin frame and his walk, which lacked its usual strut.

"Fuck! Look at what a useless piece of trash I've become! I don't even have the All Clear to drive!" Starsky mused bitterly. He missed driving his beloved Torino, feeling the power of its engine, the soft leather touch of the wheel under his hands, and the breeze on his face.

Once at the beach, Starsky strolled by the shoreline, raising his face to the soft afternoon sun. He missed jogging along the seashore with Hutch, taking a dip in the sea and swimming without a care in the world for as long as he felt like it. But both those things, along with quite a few others, were out of the question for the time being. All he could do was walk along the shoreline at a relaxed pace, checking for the physical signs that he was pushing his limits.

Shaking off his reveries, Starsky kept walking, searching for images worth capturing on film. A boat on the horizon, a kite up in the sky or a couple of kids building a sandcastle. Then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw it. Turning his head to look at it better, Starsky saw a very large, black furry dog. Unsure whether it was a wise thing to do, but somehow compelled to do it anyway, Starsky walked slowly towards the dog, until he was close enough to pet him.

"Hey pal, how ya doing?" he asked the dog, slowly crouching by its side, petting him and looking for a collar and a tag, something to identify the large animal. It must have run away.

Seeing that the dog seemed harmless, Starsky ran his hand across its back and sides. Its large amounts of fur were dirty and matted, but other than that, the animal was in good shape, strong and fit.

"Geez, dude, looks like you could use a bath and a nice brushing," Starsky said to the dog, who looked back at him, softly wagging its tail.

"Sorry buddy, I can't help you with that, but I'll tell you what we'll do… Come with me. Your new friend Starsky will buy you a nice dinner." Starsky stood with a wince and headed to a nearby greasy spoon with the dog in tow.

Once there, Starsky patted the dog's head. "Ok, now wait here. I am sorry buddy, but you can't come in. Just sit tight, and in no time you'll have a yummy burger with all the trimmings," he said. As he stepped into the small diner, Starsky was pleased that the dog did as it was told and waited patiently outside.

Starsky ordered a large egg-topped bacon cheeseburger with a double side of fries for the dog. Not long ago, he would've been buying another one for himself, but that was another one of the many things Gunther's assassination attempt had taken away from him. The extensive damage the bullets did to his body, plus the many pills he had to take during the long months of his recovery had badly messed up his stomach. Greasy food made him feel queasy and nauseous. For the time being, he'd have to stick to salads, soups and all sorts of healthy, boring food if he didn't want to be puking out his guts.

A friendly, plump lady in her mid 60's handed Starsky his order. Her name was Gloria, the owner of the joint, and she had a soft spot for Starsky. She had been heartbroken when she heard of the assassination attempt and was now overjoyed to see that apparently the young man was feeling good enough to have one of her burgers again.

"Here you go, Starsky, bon appétit" She said, smiling at Starsky.

"Oh well, Gloria, I'd love to have one of your burgers, ya know," Starsky said, returning the smile. "But my stomach wouldn't agree with it yet. This burger is actually for my friend." Starsky nodded at the eatery's entrance. Gloria looked quizzically towards the open glass doors. No one was to be seen there.

"But… what the… He was there, just a minute ago," Starsky said puzzled. He stepped outside the burger joint to look around.

"I thought that he was going to wait for me to give him dinner." Disappointment colored his voice.

"Who? Who was there, Starsky? Hutch?" Gloria asked.

"Oh, no. Not Hutch but a bear-like dog. A stray one, I think. Perhaps someone's looking for it," Starsky explained. "Black, huge and very furry. Have you seen him around the area?"

"Nope, kiddo, I haven't," the woman answered. "I'll let you know if I do."

"Ok, sweetheart, many thanks." Starsky left the eatery and after some minutes of searching for the dog to no avail, he headed back to the area on the beach where he'd seen it earlier. Once there, he unwrapped the food and carefully placed it by a large rock, just in case the vanishing giant came back.

By then it was near 5 pm. Soon, Hutch would drop by his place, as he did every single day, as soon as his shift was over. Starsky didn't want to scare his friend out of his mind by not being there when he arrived. Besides, his ribcage was starting to ache.

Great, here we go again. Starsky thought, wincing as he rubbed his throbbing ribs. Time to have my fucking pain pills, my fucking soup or boiled veggies for dinner and another fucking restless night. With this gloomy thought, he headed to the nearest cab stand to pick one and go back home.

Unbeknownst to the dark-haired detective, there was a shady looking man watching his every move. He stood discreetly a few feet away, smoking a cigarette with his back against the wall and pretending to read a newspaper. Upon seeing Starsky climbing into the cab, he folded the newspaper, tossed away his cigarette and headed towards a nearby phone stall.

"He's on his own most of time… we can get the ball rolling," He said to someone on the other end of the line. TBC